


Happy Birthday, I Love You

by ForestFox



Series: The Mighty Fall [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Depression, Developing Relationship, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Relationship, Gen, Human E. Aster Bunnymund, Human!Aster, Implied Sexual Content, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Murder, Pooka Jack Frost, Pooka!Jack, Sacrifice, Suffering, Toothiana - Freeform, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-07 13:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1899897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestFox/pseuds/ForestFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world surrounded by monsters and unique creatures. Aster is the last of his kind, a two legged paragon of hope for the Pookan kind. Remanent of a shattered age, after so long he's starting to finally lose his grip on the thing most important, his center. As he struggles to find himself the Guardians struggle to reform their group around it's newest member who threatens to ruin it all.</p><p>Warning tags added as the story progresses. (Mostly because I'm not sure what kind of things I will throw in just yet.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gentle Aches

Aster sighed hearing the rhythmic thumping in his Warren. Really the only warning he ever got that that flea bag Jack was coming. If he didn't just fly in trying to attack his head with those long legs. He dropped the shovel and stood up working the kinks out of his body. He loved working his garden, but he didn't move now he might end up face down in the sprouts.

" 'ello Jack." He called out knowing those giant ears would hear him. Just another excitable pooka to ruin his day. Worse that it was Jack of all people. But moan as he did, he did love his guardian friend. They had the same moral code.

"Hey fleshie, long time no see. Forgot how ugly your naked face is." He joked hopping to a sharp stop next to him.

Aster eyed him out of the corner of his eye shaking his head. It never failed to make him smile, even if the memory hurt. Certainly he looked naked to a boy covered in fur. He missed the human race, but he couldn't say that the pooka race was bad. In fact they matched the long gone race in diversity and skill. "Keep that up and I'll get my knife." He warned giving the pooka a gentle shove.

He was short for his kind. His ears matching his own height at rest. It was an embarrassing point for Jack and he considered perhaps rubbing it in. But no, even as he eyed his expressive rabbit like friend, he knew he was a bit down today. He was a firm believer of not kicking him when he was already down. Unless they were fighting, then unfortunately, he never pulled his punches. "I'm already shedding don't even start with me." Jack snickered waving his staff back threateningly.

"Fair enough. Stay off the couch." He warned as he turned to lead Jack into his small home. It was of considerable size for just him, but he liked his space and his relics of the past. Jack liked the sitting room with a nest area just for him.

Jack snickered hoping behind him methodically as always. He opened the door and led him in smiling as he eyed Jack's small tail. It wiggled a bit in joy as he hopped directly to his normal spot. Yes, admiring a pooka was always soothing. Such a innocent and, though he never said it, adorable race could put a smile on his face. The children were the cutest. "So why did you come here today?"

He eyed Jack as he settled in resting his staff and readjusting his sweater. That was interesting. Now that he looked there was a small box shaped lump in his sweater. The distinct square shape warping the pooka's normally slight frame.

“Tooth said you didn't have a birthday.” Jack said cryptically.

Aster frowned. He had at one point, on a calendar long gone even in the depths of his long memory. A day of celebration sandwiched between two pesky holidays that no longer existed. What they were exactly he couldn't recall. Though he knew one involved loud bangs and pretty lights. “Not any more. My kind didn't live as long as I have.” He shrugged dismissively. He was too old and forgotten.

But to the pooka a symbol of hope and love. The gentle touch of an odd animal reminding them in a world of dangers and death that even strangers could offer them kindness and hope. He had lost track of the amount of young pookas that had managed to sneak up on him for a gentle ear scratch and reassuring words.

“Well you should make a new one! I'm a guardian now and I'm going to celebrate everyone's birthday.” Jack declared defiantly yanking the box out of his sweater. The bright green wrapping was nearly blinding. Aster's favorite color, green, but Jack had gotten the shade all wrong. He preferred a soft ever green that reminded him of home. Not retina burning lime green with white ribbon. But it was a gift, and when was the last time anyone liked him enough for that? His grumpiness scared a lot of people away.

“Maybe... we should just throw a party for all of us. Gifts for everyone.” He offered neutrally reaching to take the box. He forgot the fast movements around Jack were still a bad thing. He rushed to snatch the forgotten gift out of the air as the pooka disappeared. A blur of white knocking things over in his haste to find a hiding spot.

Aster fell to his knees, thankfully with the gift in hand. He had lost some of his balance, not all. Not for the first time he envied being a two legged creature. Jack had more balance then him by spades. As the young guardian proved disappearing over his counter in a perfect jump. Not even half a second later a terrified pair of ice blue eyes peaking out from the side of the counter. He wondered how the pooka was contorting to be horizontal with the floor and not be falling over. “D-do you like it?” Jack panted trying to save face in lieu of his shameful fear. He was a warrior class, well had been training to be one ages ago, when he had been mortal. He just didn't have the steel of a veteran warrior, but he was still brave where it counted. Young, fun, and brave for the little pookan kits that had the whole world trying to eat them. Some lived, most didn't, and those needed Jack. A bright spark in their short lives.

Aster fumbled to get up and began tearing open the gift. Silently very happy to rip into the eyesore wrapping paper to get to the center. “It's great Jackie, I've always wanted one for myself.” A pookan warrior's blade. He had a stash of them he had collected over the years. But this was the only one he had been given. He smiled dropping the box to cradle the simple blade. The craftsmen ship on the handle was more proof at how special the blade was. Snowflakes etched into the handle, with a tiny fairy making chase, streams of what could only be dream sand trailed closely behind by a sleigh and the moon. A guardian blade for a guardian.

“I think you're right about a party. One big one instead of five birthdays a year. Easier to plan.” Jack muttered reappearing behind his kitchen counter with a shy smile. Aster watched patiently trailing his fingers over the blade. Jack would return to his spot when he was good and ready. He pressed the flat of the blade to his chest smiling wistfully. This was life and though it was painful and hard. It was so very good.


	2. Persistent Itch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandy is made to remember the good times and their comrades lost to battles and timeless bickering.

Jack hopped around excitedly through the air. Sandy rolled his eyes at the excited young pooka, sure he could fly and he would be fine. But Sandy humored him willing sand clouds to form for him to bounce off of. The only pooka he knew that could stomach flying, let alone that liked it.

“And I think he really liked it. He had to have! He didn't try to skin me with it.” Jack chattered excitedly.

Sandy gave him an agreeable nod wondering what was it about Jack's excitement that was different this time. He had been determined as he usually was to do something when Tooth had said Bunny didn't have a birthday. Or at least not one he celebrated with anyone. He had sat by with Jack on the bright nights watching him painstakingly carve out the hilt of the blade himself. Scratch after careful measured scratch to make a near identical image on both sides.

He had let Jack explain to him the pookan customs, the ones he was breaking by giving Aster such an important gift. 'He is the bravest buck I know.' He had declared. Sandy willed a giant pillow to gather out of his golden sand. Sparkling in the light of the moon as Jack landed with a happy sigh. “I wonder what I should make for Tooth. She's next! Aster said we should have a big party. Just once a year for all of us. Next year though. Already started single gifts, can't make it unfair now.” Jack curled up around his staff. His legs twining carefully around it, securing it from being lost as he sudden drifted off.

Sandy smiled floating over to him. Careful to pull a golden sheet over him. He had the sweater to protect him from the deepest cold that not even immortality could protect him from. But up here in the sky? Well it would get colder and he didn't want Jack to get sluggish. Guardians had to be on the alert at all times.

Not for the first time Sandy considered breaking his vows. But pookas had such great hearing. It was a struggle to keep himself from getting swarmed by them. He would have to remind himself to sign to Jack about this in the morning. He hadn't been listening at all those months ago when they had tried to polite dissuade him from this path. They had reasons they didn't celebrate their birthdays anymore.

Tooth more so than the rest of them, if anyone regretted her celebration of existence it was her. Every birthday a sharp reminder of the risk she had put her family in. In the end her existence had sealed their fate.

He pondered his own birthday. Not that he could ever feel sorry about his birthday. It was another year he was alive spreading his influence and happiness. In a world so very dangerous he was important and reminders of his ever growing power and his age was a good one. But it also reminded him of the time before. When celebrations were thrown in honor of his kind's birthdays. They had been very high ranking in the galaxy back then, not that he cared. It meant nothing to his kind. But an excuse to have a party?

No star would be denied that.

Nick was just like him. He could be convinced to throw a party over tea, and had been several times by a young adventurous woman. Echos of ages past that still lingered. Fur as dark as night, starlight eyes filled with rage as she shattered a tea pot. That had been the _last_ party she had attended. They had made the mistake of suggesting how she was to treat the pookas. Like father like daughter he supposed. 

No, even though Tooth was pained by it. She could accept it. She ever resilient like that. Aster was another question entirely. Lines weren't cross with him often, and one that none of them has dared cross had been erased. A silent agreement between them all to avoid at all costs. But Jack couldn't be blamed. He was just so  _young_ . He didn't know any better and hoped dearly that Aster wouldn't hold that against him. 

He ran a glittering gold hand up one of Jack's long soft ears. Dust trickling off into Jack's fur, sinking into flesh and disappearing from view. Only good dreams for their well meaning friend. And silent prayers to Manny that nothing went wrong from Jack's meddling. 


	3. Open Wounds

Tooth smiled sweetly at Jack holding the gift he had found her. A small hand craved box to hold all the lovely gems and shiny baubles he had hunting down just for her. To match her beauty he had said, if only he had stopped there. She really wanted not to be angry. His heart was in the right place. She tried to remind herself of that as her mind wandered into old thought patterns she had tried to avoid.

A gift for her on her birthday. It was one thing to know when it was. A silent celebratory nod was all she really expected from her immortal companions. A visit on the dread day on the years they bothered to remember it. But to _gift_ her. This was not truly a thing to be celebrated. It meant nothing! Would never truly mean anything to her again. She had warned him off this path, but still he thought it was a good thing.

Snapping the wooden box shut, the 'precious' stones out of sight but not out of mind, she interrupted Jack's rambling. She hadn't even really been listening it had taken all her power to keep the smile on her face. She wanted to draw her swords and run him through for the near crippling grief that beginning to tug her good senses.

“Did Aster like his gift?” She offered up watching her excitable pooka friend jerk to a stop. His long ears darting in her direction as he registered she was talking.

“Yes! I made him a warrior's knife.” She watched those paws nervously spin his staff around. The young fool. Putting so much effort and thought into their gifts. She could see right through him, trying so hard to be liked.

“Only a knife?” She couldn't help how her mouth ran. Really, he should be thankfully she hadn't just run him through yet. Her fingers itched to be balled into fists and she considered, for only a moment, the thought of ripping his fur and flesh from bone. It would be satisfying, perhaps even soothing against the pain of her worthlessness.

But the sudden surprise on Jack's face helped. How his joy turned into confusion then thinly veiled worry was so deeply satisfying. “Should I have done something else?” That worry quickly evolved into fear. Jack's brilliant eyes silently telling her he was concerned he would be rejected. That he hadn't put enough effort and thought into his gifts and he would have to do better if he would ever be loved. Apparently the boy couldn't just take their word for it that they considered him one of their own.

“Well pookas can shapeshift can't they? Why didn't you just shift into a human.” She hopped up into the air flying up to a gilded cabinet where she stored useless possession. With her back to Jack she let the smile disappear as she opened the door. Shoving aside some chipped plates she made space for the box. He really was lucky she didn't just throw it away. She hated birthday gifts. In time the dust that lined the cabinet would coat the box and it would become another forgotten memory that served no good purpose.

“I thought that was cruel. But I guess it would be nice... I know I'd give anything to see my sister again.” Jack muttered. She could hear the uncertainty in his voice. If he was so sure of scraping up her bad memories he deserved whatever came his way. And while she believe karma would do it's job. She wasn't about to wait around for it to be put it into effect the way she was feeling.

“You can see reminders of your sister in every pooka. Aster can't even have that. He is the _last_. The only thing human about pookas is your ability to move in a bipedal fashion.” She offered up.

She turned floating back down. Jack was half nodding in agreement. The poor young fool, she had him. This would not end well and she was delighted by that fact. She could feel that sick glee fighting off her worthlessness and pain. It gave her the power and strength she needed to put on a gentle smile and guide Jack out of her palace. It filled her with false kindness as she made her good byes and kept her standing as she watched the young pooka fly away on the winds.

Then it failed her. Falling to her knees spent and broken she began to wail. Fingers finding feathers and ripping them out in penitence. She was worthless, a mistake, she was undeserving of any celebration of life. Even in her anguish she did take a moment of pause to admire the horrific beauty her tear stained feathers made on the floor. Colorful silvers of memorial to the Sister of Flight, stained in blood to mark their passing.

Yet still she lived. This small blood letting would not kill her. And she had work still to do. For she existed to uphold the pookan race as the echos of the Golden Age. Something she herself had never experienced, but the moral code of her long gone family keeping her to it. Even as the last shreds of what the Golden Age had been, it was up to her to keep the pookas going.

No matter how much it hurt.


	4. Bleeding Out

Jack should have listened to his instincts. They had guided him well for so very long. He had lived a good life, had saved his sister, had helped the guardians, and saved countless pookan lives. All because of his instincts. But he wanted so badly to gift Aster something special. He wanted to give all the Guardians something they would never be able to get anywhere else. And really... it had been a great idea. Soon good in fact he had ignored the feelings that told him it was a terrible idea.

Now he lay in on the ground naked and screaming. Why had he thought turning into a human woman was a bright idea. A male body would have been easier to understand. But he hadn't, Aster was male and he had though the opposite would have been the best gift. He felt a sharp talon dig into his arm pulling his small frame up.

He couldn't react quick enough. Legs with different joints and arms with too many fingers weren't functioning quick enough. Looking down at his trapped arm he let out another terrified scream. A nightmare harpy! Pitch was a cruel bastard. He was going to be lifted off the ground by the monster and dropped to his death. Not a problem for him normally, but his staff had been lost when he had run from the initial attack.

His bare ass was raked across the forest floor sharp rocks and twigs sinking into his fresh skin. Tears running down his pale face as he managed to work his free arm across his chest. He hadn't calculated for the size difference of his breasts. His first grasp for the talon missed. Why couldn't he stop screaming? Were all humans so _noisy_ when they were scared? His second swing at the harpy's talon rewarded him a grasp on dry flaky skin. 

“Bring it to me alive.” Pitch's thick calm voice called from somewhere in the distance. Panicked Jack looked around trying to see where his enemy was. He could barely take in the area with these weak eyes. Some trees, a blur of fallen leaves, even the dark patch of ground where the nightmare harpy had been summoned from. He should really have not done this. Shapeshifting was a last resort, changing to your attacker in hopes to confuse them and get away. It was not a thing to be used on a whim. 

He hadn't even seen it coming until the dying sun flickered unnaturally through the trees. Something whizzed through the air thudding into the monsters chest. The harpy let out a pained shrieked collapsing on top of Jack. The weight of the beast sent Jack down on his back a face full of feathers and the human instinct to uncover his mouth. He was going to suffocate! There was no urge to scrambled to safety, only to uncover his face or die. Oh he didn't know how to work this body at all! 

The harpy recovered with a flap of wings. He felt the gush of wind kicking dust up and bringing sweet air back into his lungs as the harpy managed to get back up. Lifting him up again by the painful hold on his arm. Though it seemed now the thing was suffering from the same panic he had, flapping furiously to get airborne with its catch. He was blind from all the kicked up debris. 

His weight shifted from his rear to his feet. Another uncontrolled scream bubbled up from his strained lungs. The harpy was going to make off with him! The ground beneath his feet was gone, his rebellious body kicking out as though that would help. He supposed he should be thankful he had a hold on the harpy, all his weight dragged by his arm hurt, but he could only wonder if he would have lost the arm otherwise. As heavy as he was it suddenly made sense why the harpy hadn't just dragged him off in one flap of it's wings. 

“No you don't!” Aster growled from the ground below. Jack was startled at the viciousness in his voice. Where had he come from? A loud crack of noise ran out. Aster's special weapon, the thing he hardly used unless Pitch was involved. Why? He had said it's 'ammo' was precious and he was saving it to put through Pitch's heart. Why waste it now when Pitch was still hiding in his shadows.

The talon holding him tightly suddenly wasn't there anymore. The harpy was dead and the magic holding it together dispelled. His human heart skipped a beat at the realization he was now falling. His feet quickly connecting with the ground. The pain of the fall running up his knees through his body right to his shoulders. With a whimper he crumpled to the ground and lay there feeling broken. 

The noise of the attack died away, the silence of the forest giving way to tentative crickets and brave birds. Jack lay there trying to get control of his body, forgetting for just a moment that he had heard Aster and his special weapon. That is until callused hands took hold of his shoulders turning him over. Letting out a groan he reached up his injured arm blocking the sun out of his half blind eyes. “Oh moon it's true. Let me help you lovely.” Aster's voice was so calm. Jack felt his heart give another odd fit. This one felt good, the quick pace of lust and not fear. That voice had never effected him like this before! But he had never been a human woman before. 

Water trickled onto his face giving sweet relief to his eyes. “T-thank you Aster.” He stuttered sitting up. Everything hurt, but it was okay, he was alive and Aster was here. He could present him with his gift now. The company of a human woman, he had it all planned out too. Though he had hoped to find clothes and get Aster to the waterfalls first. 

“How do you know my name?” The accusation in his friend's voice cut through him. He looked down at his legs. This had been a terrible terrible mistake and now he'd have to live with it. 

In this body that had already endured so much. This body with its heart that seemed pressed between to stones and cold with humiliation finally gave in. He began to cry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 'company' Jack was offering was just a regular day to give Aster a taste of 'human'ity again.


	5. Le Petite Mort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly mature memories and vague gore references.
> 
> Also, AN about the universe. The guardians are less hinted and more like... the justice league. And Pitch has a much bigger presence as he helps the monsters and natural fauna try to wipe the pookans out. So Jack is just going to be going undercover so to speak.

Jack shoved his staff into his hiding hole. The small space was his home he supposed. The only place he considered his throughout his long life. He stared at his staff with contempt. A sign of what he was, a guardian. He could be that without the staff, without the signs of who he was, without the other guardians.

He hated that even now as he peeled off the stupid blue sweater he lamented not getting a gift for North or Sandy. But he had done enough damage putting so much effort into Aster and Tooth. And what had he gotten for it? Confusion and a few very near death experiences. Tooth had hardly glanced at the gems he had gotten for her. Didn't she know what he had done to get them? But it was the wrong kind of gift as usual.

The knife that Aster didn't even carry with him and the shapeshifting. He shivered closing his eyes. Oh it had been fun. Very fun, the best mating he had ever had. The things a human woman felt during mating, it made him shiver remembering it. Aster had even seemed caring at the time. Some how rough and gentle all at once. He let out a pleased coo recalling how firmly he had been pressed to the wall, like a doe being prepped. His overheating body against the cool wall as Aster held his arms behind his back and mated him again.

With a sigh he tried to focus again. Making a point of not looking down at his exposed cock, it had slipped out of its sheath at some point. The problem at hand was that while the confusing feelings of a human female had gotten him to mate with Aster, the feelings lingered. He wanted to feel that tenderness and lust now, in _his_ body. He wanted Aster look hungry for him fur and all. For that handsome face to look at him as though he were still a human female and not Jack.

But he knew what they thought of him. Tooth giving him stupid ideas and Aster taking advantage of his skills for his own pleasures. Certainly he had offered up the gift, but to suggest mating him like that? That hadn't been what he was planning when he had changed. But he had been easy, wearing a skin that didn't belong to him. Experiencing the same feelings in alien ways. Unable to resist the swell of need when Aster had asked sweetly, “Let me have you.” He nibbled on his bottom lip remembering the heat of his voice in his ear. The way his greedy hands grabbed at his flesh, never once had Aster asked him to get dressed. And he knew how important that had been to human culture.

Seeing Jack and treating him differently because he looked human. Just as he had not respected him until the Man in the Moon had asked it of him. Jack the Guardian of Fun, the Youngest Guardian, the Biggest Fool.

He shook himself from those dark thoughts. He was more than what they thought of him. He would not be brought down by them. No matter how much it hurt that they didn't treat him fairly. He was sick of lying to himself. With a wave of a paw he watched the small hallowed out hole freeze over. His staff and sweater would be safe until he came back for them. He tried not to think of the possibility that he might never. He could fulfill his guardian duties as he was. His first act as a guardian he had done as a mortal before his powers.

“I can do this.” He stated firmly to reassure himself. He looked out into the forest, the nearest settlement would have dyes. He'd be himself in no time, maybe he'd even try to enlist and finish his warrior training. Though, would he still be himself if he went by a different name? There would be only one way to find out.

++++ One month later ++++

Aster let out an angry bellow pulling his gun free. And archaic weapon certainly, but it was faster than his magics and higher tech weapons. His six shooter could do more damage in less time than his lasers. The batteries just didn't hold a charge the same way with Earth's sun. He pulled the trigger watching in satisfaction as Pitch's dark form spun out of the air falling to the floor. Tooth was on the fallen Nightmare King a sharp clawed hand poised to strike.

“You think you can stop me.” He laughed as he lay on the ground his paws already soaking through with blood as he attempted to cover his wounded hip.

“Even now you think lies will save you. I won't let you get away.” Tooth snarled her feathers flaring in rage.

“Toothiana!” North roared pushing her aside before she could swipe her claws over Pitch's neck. Aster snarled, how dare he stop her from killing him! “Let's end this North!” He barked.

“Yes, but first! Where is Jack! I know you have done something to him.” North pressed a saber to Pitch's neck. The raven furred pooka laughed seeming not to care for the dangerous situation he was in.

“I didn't do anything to him. I just watched you all do the work for me. I hate to run.” He stated calmly. Aster raised his gun to fire a bullet into the bastard's head. He didn't know if it would work as a kill shot, but he could try!

Taking aim he squeezed the trigger again. Just as the fire blossomed at the tip of his gun inky blackness darted up from under Pitch. Tendrils covering him quickly and sucking him into the ground as though he had never been there. Another wasted bullet connecting with the dirt and spraying debris over North's saber.

“You let him get away!” Tooth shrieked. Not for the first time, Aster could see how she had inspired Pitch's harpies. Harpies that had almost killed Jack not that long ago. He had seen the monsters lift a full grown pooka into the air. When they were being playful they even gathered and ripped them apart in the air.

North glared at her. Aster sighed shaking his head. Pitch always got away, even after all this time he still got away. They were doing the same ageless song and dance. Holstering his gun he glanced at Sandy. His friend was sitting on the ground looking a bit dim.

Shaking his head he shuffled over to Sandy feeling old again. Though his body was fit and he was strong, his mind weighed it all down. His old soul projecting his immortality weight to every joint as his rear connected with the ground. “Don't worry,” He pattered Sandy's shoulder reassuringly, “We'll find him. We don't need Pitch for that.”

Sandy nodded smiling at him. He was glad his words reassured his friend, his normal glow returning. They didn't do much for him though. Jack was... clumsy. Already he was replacing memories of unfortunate pookas he had seen with a snow white pooka. His legs popping out of their sockets and fur splitting with gashes of red. Harpies shrieking and laughing as blood rained down on his face. The harpies scattering, each flying away in a different direction with dismembers parts of Jack. He had already used up his luck once. He was doubtful he'd be able to save him if he needed it again.


	6. A long time later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I keep throwing things in that are random. The story isn't so much about the universe, but the state of mind of my version of the immortal guardians of pookan kind. Yes this story is about Jack and Aster's relationship, but it also highlights the other guardians and how they all fit together. Try not to get stuck up on the odd changes I made to fit the changes in race/history/etc of each character. I'll am going to try to squeeze in some more explanation about their backgrounds if it is relevant to the story. If not... well I'll just have to write more stories in this universe.

Aster grumbled balancing himself on the counter. He knew better then to bicker with Tooth. She wasn't going to redesign any part of her ancestral home. Not even for the poor fools with no wings and who hadn't had the foresight to bring their hover boots. His tools were no good if he left them squirreled away in the Warren where he couldn't put them to use. “All this for a bleedin' cup.” He growled checking his footing once more before he hooked a finger around a upturned elephant trunk. As he swung the cabinet open careful not to knock himself with it he was surprised as the plume of dust that shot out into his face.

He let out a cry of alarm, or maybe it was a gasp for fresh air as he was blinded. Panic caught his heart in an iron grip as he tipped back. His arms flailing for balance as his weight pulled him from the poor elephant figure that had been his safety. His left hand connected with something slim and dusty that came away easily. His right hand tried just as futilely as he tipped back to grab onto something. This object too slipped away easily, but it was bulky.

He fell back off the counter and straight to the floor. His head connecting with the floor hard enough to knock him right out. His eyes darted open in alarm knowing that while it seemed like only a second surely he had been out for some time. How much time had he lost? Apparently not enough to get help. He looked up at the dusty cabinet trying to run through the mental check list he had for a concussion.

Looking at his hands he sighed, useless things he still loosely in his hands as though they would have saved him. A broken plate was his reward for one grip. He frowned at the broken lid in his hand as he lifted it into view. He recognized the handiwork instantly. His knife had the same care taken when it had been carved all those years ago. Though he had long since worn down pictures etched into the handle. He knew he shouldn't have kept using it, but when Jack hadn't returned it was all he had left. That and his guilt, but only the knife made the regret bearable.

He turned to the remains of what he had destroyed. He eyed the broken box, gem spilling out of all sorts. Instantly he recalled a white furred mouth laughing. Pookan pure white front teeth exposed in a happy smile as he explained where to find the gems. Some were uniquely shaped rocks and even a few colored shells that he was sure belonged to sphinx eggs. Why had Tooth stored away such a trove of treasure with the plates? And more pressing was that he seemed to be forgetting more.

It wasn't hard to remember that Jack had been a pure white pooka, forever stuck in a winter coat. But the rest? Time was eating the fine details up. He couldn't quite remember how tall Jack stood next to him, nor what shade of blue his eyes had been. How long had he been missing? When had he stopped counting the years?

“Aster?” Tooth called out. He turned still not quiet sure he was ready to stand up. She was peaking into the room her curious eyes looking around. Concern stopped in a small shift, he had known her long enough to see when she was tense. He also didn't miss that though her eyes were on him, she wasn't looking at him. And they both knew exactly what was going to happen.

“Why is this here?” He asked waving the lid of the box at her. Dust scattered into the air and to prove his point he blew the rest of it off at her. The cloud of dust filled the space between them. They were old, very old friends. He could see it now, placing the pieces together as she slipped into the room her eyes glassing over as she retreated inside herself.

A doll like smile froze itself on her face as she cross the room blowing the dust away with her wings. “I was wondering where that had gone off too. I guess I misplaced it.” Silently, still sitting where he had fallen, he watched her turn the box upright and carefully place the gathered trinkets back in their place. There was no reasoning with her like this. And he certainly knew how to handle her, he was one of the oldest between them.

“Here. Give it to me. I'll make sure it gets put back in it's proper place.” He offered out his free hand not surprised that she balanced the box without a thought onto his open palm.

“Oh, that's very sweet of you Aster. You didn't have to, but I do have fairies to get back to. Memories don't sort themselves.” She gave a dismissive laugh waving off the moment and fluttered out of the room without another care.

He shook his aching head disappointed. He should have known better. Back then he had just assumed she would appreciate the gesture. She loved Jack's teeth after all, he always took good care of them and while she could never get her hands on any while a pooka lived she did love admiring them. Jack certainly had warmed up to everyone, but his mistake was assuming that the kid could get away with just about anything. Moon knew he let Jack get away with more than anyone else did when the boy had been around.

He placed the broken lid over the box stroking the woodwork lovingly. Well Tooth didn't like the gift, even though it had come from the owner of her most treasured teeth. He could appreciate it enough for the both of them.

He stood up feeling unsettled. Wobbling for a moment he put all his focus on not dropping Tooth's box and staying standing. He would have to check himself for sure when he got back to the Warren. He could relax in Jack's spot pretending that he could smell him still there. Though the scent had long since faded, as had any mark that the he had been there.

He looked down at the floor, the display embedded into his eye lighting up as he calculated. Magic that only a human could do paired up with the science to reduce the time it took to cast a teleport from weeks to mere seconds. A hole opened up cutting through time, space, and the golden tiles to take him home. Back to the Warren, the last bastion of human kind, and his own personal prison. There he would find a special place for Tooth's rejected gift and try to remember exactly what shade of blue Jack's eyes had been. With a pained sigh he jumped into the darkness of his portal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to avoid any confusion if anyone didn't pick it up. Aster is still a scholar and scientist of sorts. He can use magic but it's a complex and involved thing that he uses technology to help him. Hence a computer in his eye that helps him calculate all the difficult numbers so he doesn't just teleport himself into a rock. Also why he would use hover boots instead of floating magic. One is less taxing on him than the other.


	7. Nameless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little note to avoid confusion.  
> North does more of Aster's job. He brings joy and happiness as the end of winter by celebrating life and boosting morale.   
> Tooth is still the guardian of memories.   
> Sandy is still the guardian of dreams.  
> Aster does more of an odd duckling that is marveled at and loved. He represents peace and the circle of life... Like the Mufasa of this universe.  
> Jack is most definitely still the guardian of fun, but with an extreme warrior aspect in him. Less about fun and games and more of keeping the inner child alive at all times.

North smirked hoisting his bag over his shoulder. A hefty bag certainly, but nothing he couldn't handle. Countless treats for countless pookas, his big job that only he did. Really a small gift to his kind who had to suffer so much. When he had been mortal he had taken upon himself to combat the depression of the high mortality rate. It had started in his own home, a village very much like the one he was in now. Only he had realized his calling on a dark night. Now, centuries later this village was celebrating. A large bonfire daring Pitch's nightmares and the normal monsters to come attack.

A celebration that he himself had started when he had had enough warriors backing his name. He could see at the edge of the fire light the stoic warriors who would partake in none of the festivities tonight. Fire gleaming off the edge of long blades strapped to their bacl. Some warriors nothing but tight muscles that could snap at a moment, they were the runners. Other pooka's with hulking forms that moved slower were called the brutes. The combination had worked best back in the day when monsters took the lure of the fire. The brutes to combat the blood-thirsty unicorns. Their runner brothers distracted the monster with his deadly horn while the brutes attacked the heart. After all no runner has successfully carved into a unicorn enough to kill them, the horn always got them first. It also worked in tandem when Pitch had created the harpies. While runners often where the targets for the harpies the brutes could easily knock them from the sky long enough for the runner to recover and make the killing blow.

The warriors would get their celebrating in and pick up does when morning broke and the worst of the trouble was gone. For now, the rest could enjoy and celebrate the coming of warmer weather. And more importantly the children that had survived the winter. The time when the pooka were the hardest hit. Their birth rates down and their non-nightmare foe more desperate for food. Enough so that even a poor tiger had tried for a kit this morning. It's body had already been split open and cleaned. The helpful meat had been thrown away from the village to deter more hunters and it's skin was already spread and being tanned for use later. The remains that couldn't be used were hug over the fire, a blood strained skeleton displayed like a trophy and a warning.

Around the fire small kits were playing their normal games to build up courage. Only the bravest kits would get close enough to the fire to get burned. Those would later become warriors, it was all a part of the system that worked and kept the pooka thriving in the harsh world.

North got as close to the fire as he dared, trying not to scare the kits as he let out a loud laugh. “Come children. It's almost bed time, a treat to help you sleep!” He declared patting his sac. The adults watched on, the crowd growing silent as the kits began to gather. Another thing that was always done, more tradition than anything else.

He had started it when he was mortal to boost the falling morale so long ago. It had been a tiny prick, something that would have had no profound effect in span of his short life. But somewhere along the way the Man in the Moon has mercy on him. Or perhaps had seen the need for him and kept him around.

By then his planned village a year turned into decades and word spread. Soon he was expected on his travels, Aster appeared to him personal and shared secrets with him. Decades turned to centuries, and now he was visiting many villages a night. Gifting the children with toys and sweets to give them happiness in such a dark world. And when the population dipped, he gifted the adults with fertility laced foods to encourage more successful mating. Something Aster had helped him with, ultimately their race owed the last human a great deal. After all he wouldn't be able to spread near as much joy without help.

He made sure that every small kit got gifts. And the little ones smart enough to get up on their hind legs and beg sweetly got two. He watched as the adults shooed their children back to their burrows underground. Those that had no children to mind were already shifting and changing stance. The air charged with the promise of mating. Closing his large but somewhat lighter sac he hoisted it over his shoulder again. There was no need to join those festivities. He had long since bored of mating with the mortals. Too many times he had broken his own heart watching his mortal lovers die. So he merely admired the 'dance' that started as the adults paired off. Wandering eyes trying to catch the attention of their choice for mating. He chuckled walking away from the fire as one buck seemed to have no patience. He dove for his intended doe and was greeted with a face full of dirt as she shot off. Chasing was just part of the game.

As removed as he was from the people he was only noticed when he came with his gifts. Now that he was leaving he was only a moving object blocking mating. He nearly tripped over an over excited buck avoiding chase. He huffed ready to give the buck a piece of his mind. He was a handsome tan pooka sure, but even before he could spit out a curse at him a dark shape tackled him. Another buck, North blinked, that wasn't rare, but he stepped back not wanting to get into that fight.

Bucks mating was less of a dance and more of a battle before it actually happened. The loser became female if they intended for a liter. “You'd make a pretty doe come on!” The assailant chuckled.

The voice froze him. Squinting at the pooka wrestling down the tan buck. It couldn't be? His coat was a light brown with darker spots almost black in the nightlight, not a single hint of white on such a fine coat. “Jack?”

To anyone else the buck ignored him. But North was old, weathered, and above all else, trusted his gut. And his gut told him that while the buck hadn't reacted that that pooka was Jack. He dropped his sac and dared approach the pair. Both of them were slim, runners if they were warriors. They both seemed be wrapped up in each other. The tanned buck doing his best to break free from Jack's hold and Jack busying himself with nibbling at his mate's neck. The perfect opportunity for him really.

He easily closed the space ready to snatch Jack off his mating partner. But just as his gut had warned him he was noticed. As his arms closed down around Jack's waist the buck was gone, darting forward at the expense of his mate. A long paw kicked his mate in the face causing the poor pooka to roll over in pain. North ignored him looking up to were Jack had darted off to.

Really he gave himself away as he clawed his way up into a tree and glare down at him with glowing blue eyes. No sensible pooka got up in a tree unless their life was at stake.

“I thought it was you! We've missed you!” North started holding his arms open for a hug. Jack had always liked cuddling with him.

“Bunnymund what's he talking about?” The forgotten pooka muttered finally getting up to glare at North. He ignored the slight thing, he was unimportant in the face of rediscovering Jack.

“Nothing. Go to my burrow. I'll meet you there.” Jack growled at his mate. North watched curious as his crestfallen mate sulked away. The buck was rather obedient, it spoke of a relationship and not a one night mating fling.

“You and... him?” North asked curious watching the tan pooka disappear into the darkness.

“He has a name.” Jack hissed jumping down at last from his perch in the tree. “One I won't be telling you. It's not your business. Now go.”

The smile that has cemented itself on his face slipped off. He knew how this could play out. How it had played out in the past with similar people. He could argue now and hasten the inevitable or leave peacefully and give himself more time to gather help.

“Of course... I'm sorry.” He picked up his sac and continued his march out of the village. He was sure Jack was following him to make sure he left. That was fine. He would leave and continue on his work. It was something the pookas expected and one he wouldn't let them down in. But he had an unscheduled stop to make. Five villages back where he was sure there would be tuckered out pookas, both kit and adult alike. And they would all be dreaming.


	8. Ageless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Again a little tweak. Jack full name in this story is Jackson Bunnymund (later Jack Frost). I didn't see a point in the play on Aster's old name if he wasn't actually a pooka.

Aster tried not to rush. When the guardians rushed into a villages pookas ran screaming in the other direction. It had embarrassingly happened a few times. There was no real reason to rush in and scare them. Pitch was not attacking, and there was no stampede coming to rip through the town. It had only happened once, but the tale had spread far and wide. Really Sandy should have known better then to tell them a stampede was coming by making one out of sand to terrify them into running.

Shaking his head as he passed the first tell tale signs of a burrow. No natural formation had flowers artfully growing around a large stone in such a neat pattern , the dark shadow of a burrow hole discreetly under the stone. At least right now the village was obvious during the day. At night with the covers in place over the burrows it was easy to walk right through most of the villages without knowing.

“Human!” A kit squealed in delight. He saw the small spotted kit as it darted out of the darkness of a burrow ahead. “It's the human!” The little pooka darted across the ground planting it's small body on Aster's shoe stopping him in his tracks. He didn't have time to cater to the pookas right now. He needed to find Jack before he left. North had stressed the flight risk now that Jack was found.

He could feel the kit's tiny nose trying to take in all his scents and commit them to memory. Even as one person with all his talents some pookas went their whole lives only hearing about him. All of them treasured his presence, as much as right now he wanted to kick the tiny kit off him and go find Jack. He knelt down pressing a careful hand to the kit's head. Instantly the spotted kit cooed pressing it's face into Aster's palm.

“My name is Jamie, oh I can't wait to tell them I met you. Bunnymund was right! He said if I got up early and waited I'd get to see you!” The kit chattered excitedly turning that innocent gaze up at him. He smiled down at those brown eyes, guilty for his silent rush. He was still a guardian, without or without Jack. He had a duty to make these appearance and reassure them that they were being watched after.

“Bunnymund eh? Who is that? You should introduce me Jamie.” He said politely wondering who could have predicted him coming. Surely Bunnymund wasn't Jack? Unless this little kit was a distraction! Fear gripped his heart and it was only by will that he didn't push Jamie away and start looking for Jack.

“Oh! Bunnymund is great follow me!” Jamie grinned hoping off his foot and starting an excited hop deeper into the village. He followed smiling as the little kit continued proud that he was a fountain of knowledge. “Bunnymund is actually Bunnymund the third! His family are all runners. His da was a runner and his da's da was a runner. They are the best. Papa said that Bunnymund's grand-da killed two harpies on his own without weapons!”

“Sounds like I might need to put in a good word with the Man in the Moon about Bunnymund.” Aster played along trying not to laugh at the tall tales. No unarmed pooka faced off against anything nightmare made. They simply ran or died.

He followed Jamie through the village passed the burrows towards the deeper forest. Just as it always was, there was warriors stationed to guard there. Guarding the more dangerous parts of the village but still the safest option. Even with all the dangerous the pooka were still safer with guards against the forest than the open plains where worse was more adept as killing them.

He was surprised even in the dim sunlight at the rigid forms of the warriors. Two brutes and a runner with a pooka sitting on the ground next to them. He tilted his head wondering about the odd configuration. It was never a runner and two brutes. The runners always outnumbered the brutes by sheer skill and speed. This was a weak defense.

“I was expecting you.” The runner called turning to Aster. He stopped again stunned by the vividness of those blue eyes. That was the shade he had been unable to remember.

“Jack.” He breathed covering his mouth. There was so much he wanted to say, had to say. But they were things that did not need to be aired out in front of a kit, two brutes, and some strange pooka sitting near Jack.

“Bunnymund if you please.” He answered sharply turning his attention back to the forest. Ears still cocked listening for any sound of impending danger. Now that he was actually looking Jack was armed to the teeth. Two large blades strapped to his back, a waist belt holstered with explosive eggs, daggers strapped to his legs, and he could even see spring blades under his wrist guards.

“You lied about your name? No wonder we couldn't find you.” Aster growled feeling a flash of anger. What stranger was this before him? Jack, but not the Jack he remembered. He missed that beautiful white coat.

“Bunnymund was his mortal name. I bet he didn't tell you that.” The pooka sitting by Jack snarled glaring up at him. He was a rather beautiful looking tanned buck. He had to have a lot of fire in him to talk back to him of all people. No one talked to the guardians this way! And while he wanted to be angry that someone he protected could speak to him like that he wondered how he knew that. More so why didn't he? He was closer to Jack than any of these pookas. They were fellow guardians.

Aster also didn't missed the surprised look the brutes shared. Apparently they hadn't know that either. “No he didn't.” He answered back glancing down at the kit who didn't pick up on the situation. He was looking up expectantly at him for more coddling. Not for the first time he wondered what favor he was doing for the pookas trying to shield their innocence. It made for soft pookas and less warriors in the future.

“Can you escort Jamie home. He's done what I needed him to and has already got his reward for it. He's going to be the talk of the kits for months.” Jack said dismissively over his shoulder. The tan pooka stood up glaring at Aster again. What had he ever done to that one? He didn't even know his name so doubtful if he had even met him before. Leaning down he gave Jamie one more friendly scratch behind his ears before the tanned pooka guided him back to his burrow.

“I figured.” Jack started. “As busy as North was, he wouldn't come back. And the way Tooth treated me she probably wouldn't show her face. And Sandy is busy because pookas are still sleeping in other parts of the world. So it would be up to you, the least busy of us, to do something about finally finding me. And since you came so early, I've only been guarding since dawn... you thought I was going to run.”

“Of course. You were hiding.” Aster shot back feeling anger that Jack still considered himself a guardian. Regardless he was one, but he had been avoiding his duty for far too long now.

“No. Not hiding. I'm doing my job. I stand at the front lines. I've been a runner for seventy eight years now. When I'm not guarding I entertain and bring joy. I tell them about Jack Frost so the legend doesn't die. And I usually stay until the fanfare catches up with me or they notice the lack of aging.” Jack stated looked with a frown at the kneeling brutes next to him.

Aster blinked wondering how he had unfocused. Now that Jack was in front of him again, he was bickering as they always did instead of talking. Decades to find the right words and instead he was doing the same routine that pushed Jack away. “Am I the only one who knew?” He asked wishing the brutes would stand up. Though he shouldn’t blame them, two guardians in one place, one among them the whole time? Certainly that had to be awe inspiring.

“No. I told someone else.” He said calmly.

“Yeah. Me.” The tanned pooka returned taking his place next to Jack. Expertly his arm navigated around Jack's weapons to wrap around his waist and pull him into a possessive nuzzle. He didn't miss how the tanned pooka aggressively scented the top of Jack's head in front of him. Either he was unnaturally jealous or Jack had told him _everything_. One was a proud pooka who knew secrets no one else did, the other was a pooka who shared Jack's bed. He hoped dearly it was the first.

He didn't get a chance to ask though. Jack's ears perked up towards forest again. Instantly the tanned pooka was pushed to the floor with a bellow. “Pitch! Gather the warriors at rest. He has us surrounded. You shouldn't have come Aster! One guardian he can pass up, we're hard to catch. Two together is just asking for him to attack.”

“Why didn't you run!” He argued his computer blinding his vision as he darted his eyes around. He needed the measure of the area to make a portal to the Warren. “Keep the ground here clear for three minutes. I'm going to get weapons.”

“Why didn't you bring weapons you know better!” Jack barked back as the brutes unhooked their heavy broadswords from their backs and flanked Jack. Whatever he couldn't hear coming, they now could. Three sets of ears were poised in one direction, waiting.

“This is Pitch. I don't come armed to the teeth on every visit.” He argued waving his hand to cast the spell. The ground tore open in the inky blackness of the portal.

“I love you. Stay alive.” Jack called back over his shoulder.

Aster smiled feeling his face heat up, “I will.” He said in tandem with the tanned pooka. He was already jumping into the hole when it hit him. That comment hadn't been met for him at all. He turned his head to stare in surprise as the tanned pooka. But he apparently was a better listener rushing towards the village on all fours. Lover for sure then.

He didn't have time to think about it anymore. Pitch was attacking and he had a duty to uphold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I am leaving him unnamed for a purpose. ^_~


	9. Endless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to the last light go!  
> Also I know the story has been light on actual talking. Almost to the last leg of the story where there is nothing but talking! XD

Aster huffed feeling as though he might die. Jamie was tucked in his arms crying. His size and the way he curled up reminding him of another precious item he had escaped with so long ago. He didn't want to run, just like before. Why escape when standing and fighting was the thing that should be done! But just like before there was a perfectly good reason to run. All of them were chasing him.

“Keep up Guardian. You're protecting us, but you won't help us if you slow us down.” Jack's tan coated lover snarled guiding him through the thicket of the forest.

Sucking in another sharp breath he pushed his body on again. Jamie's tiny paws dug into his shirt and all he could do was cast spell after spell to keep him going. A spell to numb the screaming pain of his over taxed muscles. A spell to heal the wounds of the previous battle. A computer assisted spell to stop the bleed from his neck, that wound would need treatment.

Even still harder he ran flocked by the village on the run. Only a hand full of warriors had been given to them for their escape. The rest of their back up was called every time Aster turned his head. Terrible portal spells that would kill anyone living that passed through them, but they were easier. Faster to cast when the life of the subject in question was optional. This time a six armed sentinel appeared. Crawling free from the portal with it's two free arms the other four wielding large stone scimitars.

A homage to the spiritual leaders of his kind long gone. Shiva had been a fearless warrior with a kind heart for her people, her sentinel was vicious and the perfect cover for their escape. He had already called five before her, but Pitch had a grudge as he always did. There were more amassed monsters then the sentinels could hold off. But each sentinel thinned the hoard. Made it more likely that this group would get to the next village. If they made it there they would be safe. More warriors to protect them and give Aster enough time to pull out some intense magic. Enough to protect them until reinforcements could come.

“Nearly there Guardian, five more miles and we will be safe.” Jack's lover called back. Not as though he was truly worried for it. It was probably said for all the terrified pookas behind them. He tried not to think of what they were running from. How many warriors would survive from this village? More so, Jack was back there with them. Fending off the front line against Pitch and his nightmare hoard.

Not for one second did Aster think this was a spur of the moment attack from Pitch. It was too well planned even if he had started the moment North had walked into the town last night. This had been something poised and waiting, but why waiting until Jack and Aster had been together?

He tripped nearly crushing Jamie in the process. This wasn't about Jack. This was about him! Their rivalry was long painful. Revenge he never got the chance to take and the last human that just wouldn't die. But why attack Jack? Surely Pitch didn't know about what had happened between them. As far as he knew they weren't that close. And if he really thought about it, they weren't anymore. But that was irrelevant to the question at hand.

Shaking off the pain that lanced up his arm he scrambled to get back up. Falling on his side had been a blessing. He hadn't been stomped by the mass of trailing pooka, but now he had no clue where Jack's lover was, as long as he followed the rest of them he would be fine.

“Don't let me die.” Jamie begged squirming in his grip. “I promised Bunnymund I'd be the best warrior. I have to grow up.” Aster nodded panting. Keeping up with a pooka was nearly impossible unless he took flight. Though at this rate, the use of magic would be a waste, but one he needed to do unless he wanted his lung to give out. Maybe something simpler, earth magics were always easy for him and he could spare the moment it would take.

Stopping looked around picking a tree. It was a hearty thing and that would be important if he was going to use up all the magic properly. Holding the image in his minds eyes he uttered another spell careful not to drop Jamie as he held out an arm.

The large tree bent down creaking and bulging as it did. It's roots tore out of the ground reaching up and around itself to compact it's form. Still focusing he tuned out the loud cracks as wooden legs sprouted from the tree and the leaves twirled in on themselves to form a tail and mane. The remains formed a head and what didn't gather to make his horse fell to the floor, all the life sucked out of it for his creation.

Jamie trembled in his grip, his precious cargo to keep safe. Mounting his horse he rode on, catching the tail end of the pookas. Rushing through the group of them he caught up to Jack's lover. He only spared him a glance not the least bit impressed with his wooden horse. Perhaps Jack shared more than he liked to admit with this fellow if his magical acts didn't impress him.

Ahead he could see the break in the trees. The clearing that meant safety. “Just ahead!” Jack's lover shouted. And in the silence of beating paws and gasping breaths they moved on. Aster urged his horse onwards, wanting to clear the way. He could summon more sentinels to guard them and the village they were intruding on.

His horse leapt over a fallen tree impeding the exit. Bright light flooded his vision. They had made it! He grinned halting his horse only to frown.

Pitch had beaten them there.


	10. Lifeless

Aster unrest carried through his magic to his horse. The poor construct kicking in distress trying to stay still but failing. “Lovely to see you again Aster.” Pitch said looking at though he was welcome in the area. He worried about the lack of pookas in the village beyond. He hoped dearly that they were hiding and not already dead.

The pookas following him finally got out of the forest. At least that's what he guessed if the wails of terror were any sign. “Why?” He asked feeling his flickering hope finally fade. He had already shouldered so much stress pinning for Jack. Finding him again only to have this happen. Trying to keep up the illusion that he cared about pookas when all that mattered to him right now making up with Jack.

“You'll see.... now that the main event is here.” Pitch smiled in that sickeningly sweet way only the King of Nightmares could do. Holding out an inky black paw a shadow erupted from under neath his long black robes. Aster was nearly unseated as his horse reared up to avoid being touched. Jamie let out a scream of terror digging his claws in as deeply as he could manage. Aster barely felt the pricks of pain in his skin, he was too focused trying to see what Pitch was going for.

Several pookas dived out of the way. All but one who didn't move fast enough. A shadow snapped around a tan leg, yanking the pooka in mid jump and spinning him upside down. Hanging Jack's lover up in the air, Pitch chuckled softly. “He tries so hard... but I will not be denied.” Pitch declared moving towards the struggling pooka.

Aster felt his heart rate pick up again. All this was to catch Jack's lover? He didn't understand what the point of it was. A single mortal? All _this_ for a single pathetic mortal that would wither away in less than a hundred years if something didn't kill him first. But if there was one thing he knew deeply it was Pitch. Mortal or not there was a reason he was targeting Jack's lover and it would not bode well.

“Took you long enough,” Jack's lover snarled trying not to look terrified. “It's been what? Thirty six years?”

Aster urged his horse to keep between Pitch and Jack's lover. As much as the dark voices in his mind suggested that he let Pitch have his way. Jack would never forgive him if he let Pitch have at his lover without a fight. “You are lucky he spent so long training. If he wasn't such a skilled fighter you'd have been dead the moment he took you as his mate.”

Aster tried not to hug Jamie too tightly. He wasn't connecting the dots, but he knew it would happen soon. He was actually starting to feeling a bit of fear, this was going to hurt so terribly bad if Pitch succeeded. “And yet here I am. Jack will stop you like he always does.”

Aster glared as Pitch's smile deepened. “About that.” With another way of his arm shadows gathered in a pool next to him. From their depth's Jack appeared, the sight of him making Jamie scream. A large black spike hoisting him, impaled right through the middle. All six arms hung limp, but still holding ice blades as though he would jump up and start fighting at any moment. Scream erupted from the pookas behind them, Jack's lover's wail the worst of them. It sounded so broken and horrified.

Keeping his eyes on Pitch, he watched the Nightmare King revel in the screaming. He looked so pleased with himself waiting for them to gather themselves. When Jack's lover seemed to recover himself he reached over patting Jack's face laughing. “Don't worry he isn't dead. You know he mastered the art of moving his organs. Sneaky Jack, making it nearly impossible to kill him. He's become a rather accomplished fighter now that he's taking being a guardian seriously.”

“Then why wait! You've had all this planned. Were you that scared of Jack?” Jack's lover snarled fighting to be heard over the whimpers and crying.

Pitch's grin proved that was the right question to ask. “Oh, you might be the guest of honor, but it's never been about you. It's always been about them.” Pitch chuckled tilted his head at Aster. At that moment he lost it. He wasn't being a guardian. He hadn't struck yet because he had been holding Jamie close, but no more. Jamie's possible death was a risk he was willing to take.

This wasn't about protecting the pooka. The only reason they weren't all dead yet was because that had never been Pitch's intent. It was all just a show for him. Filling his charges with terror and setting them to run. Just like he had so long before. The slaughter would start when he had what he wanted. And he wasn't going to let him take him in order to do that. From his hip holster he drew his gun not even taking the time to aim. He fired all of his bullets into Pitch. Two connected with a thigh ripping through his robes. One sank into his chest, the other into a shoulder jerking Pitch back. The last precious two connected with his head. One bullet hole already filling  with blood on his cheek, the other a prefect center on his forehead.

Pitch stood there frozen like a statue. If he had done this from the start he would have avoided all the terror the pookas were now filled with. “Oh that does hurt so.” Pitch gurgled, the wound in his cheek trickling fresh blood. He jerked back clearly not completely alright, but not dead.

“Now. The question is simple,” Pitch wheezed his eyes jerking to look at Aster. His blood stained grin was still plastered on his face. “Who will die? I'm feeling generous, only one more person has to die. Then I'll leave. Your pathetic pooka can recover their losses. I think there might even be some warriors left alive. I'm not sure, I didn't check for pulses.” He gave a dismissive shrug, his damaged arm hanging limp at his side.

“You already said you can't kill Jack.” Aster snarled his gun hand shaking. This was never going to end. If a bullet to the heart and head didn't kill Pitch nothing he had would!

Pitch laughed, “I said nearly can't kill him didn't I? I've not tried cutting his head off yet. To be honest I haven't had him this close before... I should try it don't you think?” Awkwardly he managed to wrestle one of Jack's blades from one of his many paws. He held the ice sword for a moment admiring it. Aster watched as his black paw ice over to the wrist, no doubt unable to put the sword down now. But to his credit Pitch acted as though nothing had happened.

“Don't you touch him!” Jack's lover snarled from behind him. Aster had to admit he was proud of the pooka, not a warrior, hung up by his feet, and still he was trying to make demands. What bravery from a mortal.

Pitch seemed unimpressed with the outburst. Instead he grunted as he moved his damaged arm to pull on Jack's ears and expose his neck. Pressing the sword softly to Jack's neck he looked up at them. Pitch was mad, there was no arguing it. Aster had always known this, but seeing it now so openly before him made him ill. Blood was still trickling from his wounds, he looked so proud and pleased with what he had accomplished. “Well then... Jack it is then.”

“Me. Just do it. Kill me.” Jack's lover shouted his voice warped with tears. Aster dropped his gun looking at Jack's tanned lover. “He's lying. He'll just kill us all.” It was possible that he wouldn't, but he didn't trust Pitch to keep his word.

“If I'm going to die anyway then I'd rather die now and hope it works!” Jack's lover argued back. Aster stared at him in shock. For that small moment impressed with him, that he was offering himself up for Jack's sake.

“Don't argue with the man Aster... don't you want Jack to live?” Pitch snickered behind him. Aster ignored him trying to commit Jack's lover to memory. Such lovely fur and deep open eyes, dusty blue, similar to some rocks he knew were in the Warren.

“Tell me your name.” He asked feeling the weight of the choice already. This mortal knew what was at stake. There were already so few guardians having to protect the entirety of their race. His life was nothing compared to Jack's. But Jack was in love with him, and to Aster that made him indispensable, no matter how much he hated it.

To his surprise Jack's lover shook his head still hanging like a piece of offered meat. “No. Jack can tell you when you're worthy of it. I have faith in you. I've had my time with him, but he'll always be yours.”

Pitch sighed, “Enough.”

Aster watched the shadow around the pooka's leg snaked lower wrapping around his body. Pressing his arms against his body. Covering his mouth and stopping at the base of his ears. For a moment nothing happened, both of them still looking at each other. He wondered vainly if he was trying to tell him something with that intense stare, but he didn't no him. Whatever message might have been conveyed was lost as he began to starve for air. Aster couldn't help it as his horse kicked about upset, “No, not like this! Pitch don't kill him like this.” He barked knowing that it wouldn't help. Pitch was doing what he wanted, how he wanted, and this poor pooka had bargained for it. Instead he made himself watch. If this is how Jack's lover was to die, he would remember every moment of it, he had partly been the cause. And so that if Jack ever wanted to know, he would be able to tell him, maybe even show him.

He watched the handsome tanned pooka with no name thrashing violently. Fast at first, his whole body fighting for air, and then slower. As the suffocation took him, those eyes rolled up and up until his eyes closed and he fainted. He wasn't dead yet, that much he could tell. He saw and felt the moment Jack's lover died. The way his body gave one last slump, only then was he truly gone. The shadows disappeared letting the body hit the ground with a thud. Aster turned around dreading what he might see. To his relief Jack was on the ground, the hole in his belly slowly bleeding out now that nothing was keeping it closed. The stolen blade and Pitch no where to be seen.

Slowly Aster slid off his horse putting Jamie on the ground. The little kit curled up into a ball and lay there. His soft cries reminding Aster that every battle had its losses. Jack would never forgive him now. He had failed his lover, and he would be to blame. The poor tanned fool was an idiot. He didn't understand immortality. This grudge would last forever.

“Leave me the body.” He called over his shoulder. “He'll get a guardian's funeral. Go to safety... I'll look for survivors.”

The battle had been won, but this time the cost had been almost too high. Pitch had done his job well.


	11. Grief

Aster let the yeti's bind him up. He had bandages everywhere as far as he was concerned. His whole body ached with the effort to move, he really had pushed himself far too far. Not that it had done any good. North was already making preparations for the funeral and Sandy kept as close as he could to Jack. Keeping their friend full of good dreams to speed his recovery. The hole in his belly had already shrank by half with the care of the yetis and lots of magic.

Even now he lay by Jack's bed muttering small healing spells. It was all he could spare after all the effort he had put into warding the village. His wards wouldn't last forever, but it would be enough that the pookas could return and rebuild their social structure. Though many would not, fear keeping them away, or worse. Just the memories of all the corpses did nothing to his mood.

“I've grown so old Jack.” He whispered slipping his hand in the closest paw he could reach. “They mean nothing to me... I can't keep doing this.” He knew Jack couldn't hear him, he was beyond reach in his current state. He had yet to tell any of the others how he had finally gotten a shot that should have ended Pitch, but it had not. He didn't think he could share that misery just yet.

“Please come back to me. I need to tell you how sorry I am.” He begged feeling his throat tighten. He had far too much to be sorry for now. More than before and the sheer weight of it was going to smother him.

The paw he held twitched suddenly. It was the only warning he got as Jack's body shot up. His brilliant eyes snapping open wide, his mouth dropping open as though unhinged as he shouted in pain. He tried to hold onto Jack's paw to comfort him, but he hadn't grabbed the right arm. He watched terrified the four extra arms twisted and popped. All of them bent in unnatural directions making him ill at the sight of it. Fingers snapped and curled in on themselves, shriveling up until they disappeared. Still Jack screamed as his arms followed soon after, skin pulling tight and fur falling off in large chunks. Blood slowly blossomed over the sheet covering Jack's wound.

The door to the small room crashed open North's heavy footsteps thudding as he run across the room. Aster was pushed aside as North pulled the sheets back. “Good.” North grunted pushing Jack down his screams tapering off to pained whimpers. Aster stared down at the naked flesh where the open wound had been. He could no longer see inside Jack, worried that his organs would slide out at any given moment. The pink skin had the soft white fuzz of his original fur that he missed seeing.

“Does it always hurt?” He asked dumbly watching Jack's eyes glaze over. He looked around blindly clearly not seeing anything. Soft whimpers escaping his trembling mouth until he finally went back to sleep.

“The change? Yes. It's why it's not used for fun and games.” North stated pulling the dirtied sheets away. “Go sleep, the worst for you is over.”

“No it's not.” Aster shot back. How dare he say that when Jack still wasn't up and about! The worst was still to come when he spoke to Jack and told him what had happened.

“Go.” North stated in a voice that left no room for argument. This time he headed to the door. If the worst for _him_ was over. What was Jack going to deal with? 

+++++ 

Aster followed behind Jack in silence. The winter pooka hadn't said anything since he had gotten up. North stood beside Aster just as silent as they led him to the room where they were keeping the corpse. They hadn't even had to tell him, he had woken up and looked around. His long perky ears hopeful only for a moment, then they had fallen back against his head. Jack looked so small curled in on himself like a kit. Seeing him like that made the rage boiled in him again wishing that he could kill Pitch and make Jack's pain go away. 

North sped up his walk getting in front of Jack to open a large oak door. He let Jack in without a word but put an arm up as Aster tried to follow in. “What are you doing?” He muttered softly watching Jack continue his walk into the room. He saw him pause only a moment registering the single table where his lover lay dead. 

“It is better for him alone.” North whispered. 

“You don't know that.” Aster argued pushing passed North. Though as he passed his friend he stopped eying Jack. He stood poised next to the table. His head turning left and right as though he didn't see the body carefully laid out before him. Regret and fear rooting him to the spot he watched Jack climb onto the table next to the corpse. Wrapping his arms around his dead lover's chest whispering softly to it. 

Shaking his head he willed himself on. This wasn't healthy for Jack. The emptiness of the room didn't bother him so much, but it certainly made it feel as though he was crossing some great divide. From a place that he had failed Jack, to a place where he could help him. 

Pressing his hand to Jack's back in a soothing circle he whispered, “Jack get up. I don't think he'd want you to act like this.” 

He could hear North sigh in the distance. Then the storm broke, Jack turned to look at him. His eyes still blood shot from his tears he had shed earlier. His long ears were press to the back of his head as he snarled at him. “You didn't know him. Go away this is all your fault! If you hadn't come he'd still be alive.” Aster stepped back. Jack's spittle hit his face as he continued his rant. “I hate you, you should be dead not him. Not him.” His shouting broke suddenly to an uncontrollable wail. 

Sharply Jack turned again, his shriek of pain filling the empty room. Only muffed by the unmoving chest he buried his face against. He felt as though he couldn't breath, pressing a trembling hand to his mouth he turned away to retreat. Jack was absolutely right and all he could think of was how well Pitch had figured it all out. North said nothing as Aster left the room. He turned quickly pressing his face against the wall next to the door. The coolness only offered him a sliver of relief to the sudden heat and urge to weep. 

North shut the door with a soft click. He almost couldn't hear Jack's crying from here. “He will apologize for that later. Give him time.” 

“He means it though.” Aster stuttered not ready to look at North yet. He had warned him, but he had thought he and Jack were close enough for him to dare it. 

North was silent for a moment he feel the pooka considering his words. “Yes... yes he does. He has lost a part of himself. He will be... not himself until he remembers himself alone again.” 

Aster sucked in a breath trying not to fall apart as Jack had. He had suffered more and lived far longer than Jack. He could deal with this. “I can't believe I forgot you did this too... How can you stand it?” Standing up straight once more he turned to face North. 

“I can't. I could still fall in love again. But such hurt...” Aster watched North bring a rust colored paw to his chest. He didn't miss how North's paw trembled, perhaps he was remembering past lovers. “Helps me not make that mistake again.” 

He nodded slowly. Unsure of what to say next he said the only thing he could think of. “Where's Tooth?” 

North gave a shrug, but the frown on his face and the hardness in his eyes promised much more. Jack had been asleep for days. They had been scared they would have to bury the body before he would wake, but the smell had only just begin to set in that morning. Jack had insisted to see him. All the while Tooth had not check in on Jack once, and that was unacceptable to Aster. 

He recalled the box he had liberated from her care all those years ago. “We should go visit her and tell her the good news.” Aster said his voice hard. She would explain what has happened, even though he was sure he could guess. He wouldn't be able to figure out the fine details, and she  _would_ tell him. 

North nodded slowly, “Yes, Jack needs alone time.” 


	12. Anger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No good deed goes unpunished.

Aster had meant to visit Tooth and get things set straight, soon. He was sure it would help him approach Jack if he understood everything from every angle. Accept that of his lover's of course. That poor fool's funeral had been breathtaking in all it's pain. He was put to rest in the Warren of all places. North's frozen fortress no place for the dead and Punjam Hy Loo was never an option. Sandy had no home to speak of and the only place left that could even remotely honor him was the Warren. As much as the dark voice in the back of his head suggested they burn the body and give it to Jack in a jar.

He hadn't spoken to Jack in weeks. Though he saw him nearly every day. Lurking by the grave, the damn blank stone marker the bastard's name secret from him even now. Just remembering yesterday when he had seen Jack laying on the ground. Paws stroking the fresh grass and whispering things his human ears couldn't catch, it was appalling. He wanted to tell Jack to come to his senses, that that pooka had been mortal. He would have died eventually anyway. But he knew that that was one of the worst things he could say.

He trusted in North's advice now. He didn't want to damage their friendship, what was left of it, anymore. Not that he had high hopes, but still he wanted it. It was the only thing he wanted really. He hadn't been to the villages since the battle. Hounding after Jack hoping something would change.

He leaned back into his chair staring at the half filled glass. He could finish it off now and hope that a half drunken stupor would help him sleep. He doubted he could reliably cast another silence spell to sneak up on Jack and his damn ears right now anyway.

The door to his home slammed open. Really he had no need to lock it. Nothing invaded the Warren while he was alive. Except Jack naturally, the damn pooka defied all his well kept rules. “What's this?” He shouted accusingly hold up a blanket. He stomped into the living area, right up to Aster's table throwing the blanket down.

“It's a blanket?” He offered up dumbly reaching to take his glass before it was pushed off the table.

“I woke up wearing it. I didn't have it before.” He snarled slammed his paws down on the table. Aster gave a slow nod. Of course he did, he had put it there himself. The warren was going through its cycles and during the night it got cold. Jack the morbid fool slept out in the open like a moronic kit. He was almost certain he didn't even know he had to ward off the grave site so Jack wasn't mauled in his sleep by natural predators in the Warren.

“No you didn't. I thought you would get cold...” He muttered deciding now was the best time to polish off his glass. He tipped it back feeling the burn slide down his throat. Like his hopes and dreams, burning away in blissful glory until it sputtered out to nothing. Much like now it would come back to bit him in the ass, he was sure he would be sick if he didn't eat something soon.

“Stay away from him. You shouldn't have even been at the funeral.” Jack growled the rumble coming from deep in his chest.

Tossing the glass aside Aster quickly hooked his hands under the table flipping it away from them. Jack stumbled back in surprise, but not quickly enough as he dived at him. “This is my Warren and he's dead Jack! Stop talking like I'm offending him.” He shouted trying to get fistfuls of fur to jerk him about. He only got one good grip on his neck, more pulled flesh than fur the way his drunken hands worked.

“You offend me by being there. You mated with me but I've never considered you mine. And I hope that you never thought that I was yours.” Jack growled his eyes dark with hate. His lover had faith did he? He knew that mortal was a moron, but still he had vainly considered that if he knew Jack so well he might be right. Oh if Jack's lover could see the hatefulness in his mate now.

He squeezed the bit of pelt he had a grip on watching Jack wince in sick pleasure. He had screwed up sure, he didn't want to blame himself even though he knew he should. So long ago, Jack appearing as a naked woman. When had been the last time he had seen a human anything, let alone a naked one. Maybe he had even been a bit mad then, if he had been thinking he would never have done what he did. But even now he proved that thinking was beneath him. “I never did, I'm too good for you.”

Jack howled at that. He felt one of Jack's feet connect with his belly. The sharp punch of raw strength knocking him off his feet. He traveled back colliding with his chair. The wood snapping under his weight as he went down. His stomach lurched in warning and though he hurt he rolled over. He had just enough time to lift himself off the ground before his drink came back up. The honey colored liquid tinged with bile against the floor. Some of the liquid following the divides in the wood, which he couldn't help but stare at. He had been on the losing end of that argument. It seemed a constant state when Jack was involved. Always drawing the short end of the stick or being the last picked, if he was picked at all.

“I'm so glad that my kind can't see what you are. If they knew what a human was really like... they wouldn't idolize you.” Jack spat hatefully. Aster turned just in time to see him stalking out of his home. Careful not to sit on his vomit he rolled onto his butt and sat down.

Everything was a mess. Even more now he wanted to stay at home, perhaps even drown himself in a bathtub full of hard liquor. It would certainly be quick death and he would be too out of it to notice what was going on.

If he even could, he hadn't tried to kill himself in a very long time. But a part of him suggested that maybe Jack wouldn't want that. Maybe he'd like to kill him himself.

Letting the dark thoughts plague him he reached over pulling the blanket Jack had returned around himself. A small smile gracing his lips as he let himself be consumed in self-loathing, Jack's scent on the blanket with a hint of the Warren smell. Never had he smelled such an attractive scent before. A small blessing that a nameless corpse lay in his Warren, he would be able to smell it again and again.


	13. Bargaining

Aster rubbed his face wishing he felt more like a man and less like a mobile pile of garbage. He wasn't even sure how long he slept this time, but he knew he was sleeping more. Far too long in fact, if he wasn't careful he'd slip into the Deep Sleep. It was a blissful relaxation but time slipped away when he fell under. Which was exactly the reason he was at North's workshop. It was less likely he would fall into the Sleep with someone minding him.

Not that it mattered. The only reason he hadn't surrendered to it yet was simple. It wasn't part of his routine. His old routine was in shambles, but some of it remained. He hadn't seen a mortal in a month, perhaps more, he was losing track of the days now. All of them punctuated by bickering with Jack if he spoke to him at all. Forgetting to speak to Tooth moments after he remember it, usually because of something Jack said or did. It was enough to drive him mad, North seemed better at minding Jack and his moods. Maybe he could vacate the Warren and swap places with North until Jack was better. A few more well place comments from Jack would be all it took to break what little sanity he had left.

Shaking his head he glanced around. Right, he had fallen asleep in the library. His book still propped open in his lap. He glanced at the fuzzy words trying to figure out where he had left off.

“How am I suppose to get over this? I just- he was everything to me- North you can't even begin to understand how much he did for me.” Jack's voice filtered into the room from somewhere close by. Aster froze scared any more motions he made would be heard. Jack sounded so calm, he had forgotten how his voice could sound without the malice in it.

“I know. Not what he was for you, but I know the pain you feel... many times. You can recover...” North offered up. Aster felt his heart twist at the sound of Jack's bitter laughter. He wasn't suppose to be this jaded and full of hate, only he was. He had been the one left alone, last of his kind, ancient by their standards. Jack... Jack was suppose to be full of life and joy. He was sick of this bitter resentful Jack, he wanted the old one back.

“It doesn't feel like it. I keep thinking he'll be there. North I've known him since he was born! He found me out. He left his home with me, because of me. He kept me from become like you all.”

Aster frowned at that comment. Like them? He supposed to Jack so young, they would seem odd. Quirks he didn't understand. Traditions they did not honor for sanity's sake. Time had not worn him down yet, it shouldn't have been able to. The depravity set in the the first few centuries or not at all.

North's tired sigh resonated with Aster's own ageless exhaustion. “We are old Jack... you don't understand.”

Jack voice, strong and sure stopped North's tired rant. “I do. Not from your standpoint. But I get it, you're old, you get tired, things that mattered don't anymore. I get it. And I told myself I'd never be that. And I wasn't, Moon help me I was myself for over three hundred years. And then I met you all and... and you broke me. I can't be happy, I wasn't happy with you all. So I left, I did my job. And I was becoming like you all anyway. I learned how to fight with six arms North, do you know how long that took? Do you know how many pookas I watch die? I tried so hard to save them all, I couldn't even save his parents. I've been his personal guardian since just before he was an adult. The one person I took to watching personally... still died because of me. If I had fought harder... maybe if I had had my staff... the things I can do without it now. But if I had had it I could have wiped Pitch's nightmares out. My warriors wouldn't have had to die. I could go back... I could change it. You told me about that man... the one who can go back in time... let me talk to him.”

Aster was surprised that North had let Jack ramble on so long. Perhaps he thought it would help, but look at how that went. Now Jack was talking madness.

“He doesn't change the past, he wouldn't help you even if I could bring him here. He is... hard to reach.” North said softly.

“Then make him.” Jack shouted and the rush of cold hit him. Jack had gotten powerful if he could drop the temperature without his staff in another room. The crackling of ice proved that Jack was even stronger than that. He starred with surprise as his breath came out in a puff of smoke.

“I can't.” North's soft voice urged Jack to relax. Aster wished he could get up and try to sneak a look. But he wasn't a fool, two pookas, at least one of them would hear and the other one would catch the ear movement and listen too. He was lucky he hadn't been found out already.

“I just want him back.” Jack whined. Aster closed his eyes, he had heard Jack too many times broken like this. He could hear the faint noises of movement and a strong gasp. And then the dam broke. Jack clearly tried to stifle his voice, but his sobs snapped like a vice grip over his heart. Every half choked beg making him sorry he hadn't done more.

Maybe he could have saved Jack's lover. Let him live out his mortal life with Jack. Though he wasn't sure watching a lover grow old was any better. He knew sometime ago, beyond his waking memory he had had a family. A wife and a child, maybe. Or perhaps he knew someone who he did? No names or faces came to mind, and all he could remember of his old life was a house that might have a pet as a guard. No he couldn't empathize with the situation at all. He had gone so long without desires and so far removed from his mortal life it was a joke that he was as influential as he was with the pooka. They considered him a caring positive influence, if they only knew how little he cared about them at this very moment.

Instead he focused on Jack's sobs of grief. Trying to burn them to his memory. So the next time he said horrible things to him, he might remember the pain he was in. Maybe he could keep himself from saying worse things than he already had.

He needed to find something to be positive about again. Too much was turning him more bitter than he already was. Maybe it was time to pick up painting again. That had always brought him joy in the past. Maybe if he was lucky, he would remember what it was like to care about what happened to this world again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thank you to my beta, Shinku, for untangling my gibberish! This part is almost over guys, I've already started on the second part. I'm itching to post.


	14. Depression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between this chapter and the last Jack retrieved what was left of his iconic wear :) jsyk

Jack twirled his staff in his hand again. The motion inspired no joy, no nearly uncontainable urge to make snow, no mischief bubbled inside him. The motion was just that, a motion. Something his body, nearly a hundred years later still remembered well. His familiar scraps of blue fabric that he used to call a hoodie now resembled nothing but a poorly constructed cowl.

He let himself into Aster's house yet again. As far as he was concern as long as he was buried here the Warren was now his to roam. He was surprised as the radical change as he glanced around. Jars, cups, and bowls filled all available counter space. Every color of the rainbow dripping from the lips of the dishes.

He quietly snuck through the building, ignoring the snoring from the living area. Making his way quickly to Aster's kitchen he decided now was the best time to steal treats and food. He didn't have the energy to ask or bicker with him for sweets and rare foods. He cringed at the sight of the kitchen. In a similar state of color vomit. Surely Aster had gone mad since the last time he had stepped into his house. Berries and fruit that only grew in the Warren were laid out on the counter next to jars full of matching color. What was he trying to do?

Forgoing the kitchen he decided instead he would leave. Besides, the urge to eat had vanished. There was no point to it now. It had been a habit he had picked up to hide better in plan sight of mortals. Oddly enough, in his first few years alone, his lack of eating had been the first thing pookas noticed. He had laughed at the other guardians for entertaining kitchens and eating to ‘remember’. But it made sense now.

Wandering back into the living area he paused. The urge to claw into Aster's face and hurt him for the hurt he had caused him flared to life. In the time it took him to round the couch to attack the urge had fizzled away as the expense of his precious energy that wasn't worth it.

Though yet again he was taken back by the difference. Aster hadn't looked so relaxed as far as Jack could remember. There was no visual emotion on his face other than the peace of sleep. His hair a deep brown that reminded Jack of chestnuts, though there was stray strands of gray in his hair. He remembered when Aster had explained it was a sign of aging in a human. He felt a small tremble run through him urging him to cry.

Humans could visibly age, he often forgot that he was already passed his prime. It was so easy to, he had just been there the last fifty some odd years of Jack's existence. As a young kit that hadn't cared for his father's boring friends, to being a brave warrior who had saved his life. Then contempt that he hadn't saved his parents, and anger when he had rejected his advances. Naturally things changed when he had started flaunting himself for others to mate with. Suddenly Jack was the one chasing, trying to take back his rejection and prove his love. When he was found out he had asked him to run away with him. To hide from the praise and worship in a new place with him, and he had said yes.

And here he was now alone, so terribly alone and empty staring down at the only other person who had stirred his immortal soul. The same one who had taken his unsure offers of friendship and affection and destroyed them. Just as he had in turned destroy his companion‘s. But he had been forgiven and had had an amazing lifetime with him. Could he do what a mere mortal had managed?

He had forever with Aster even if he had gray in his hair. Sinking to the floor in a crouch he shook his head. He couldn't have had more than another twenty years if that with his lover. He would have been fifty-five this year. He would have had to start watching him around the clock when he left the village. Sure he still had his speed, but he had already lost reaction time and strength. At his age he was a much easier target for monsters.

If it was one thing they had both known, it was that Jack was a Guardian. And Guardians protected the many, not the few. Only this time there was no one to hold him and promise him that though people had died he had done well.

He glanced at Aster's bare chest, smeared with bits of the colors he had seen all over the house. Aster was still the Guardian of Hope. Promises of happiness and joy if you but looked for it. He didn't want to look for it, or spend the energy pretending it was there. But he remembered the feeling of arms around him, holding him close and telling him that he was loved.

He put his staff down and stretched himself over Aster's form. He slurred some nonsense words looking up at Jack. He said nothing, tucking his head under Aster's chin. There would be no chinning, but it would still be comfort. He gave a test flick of his ears making sure they weren't uncomfortable. An arm that had been ready to fold over them seemed to reconsider and slide under his ears to cradle his frame. The other arm half laid on him with a hand touching his ears gently. Stroking down softly as Aster continued to mutter sleepy words he couldn't decipher.

They had been planning to try for a family. Now that he thought about it, far too late. Even if they had succeeded, he'd have been dead before his children ever reached adulthood. For that thought he wept softly. Curling his paws onto his face he stayed there, not feeling the least bit of relief from his pain, but comfortable and maybe just a little cared for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As before thank you to my wonderful beta and one chapter to go! Thank you all for continuing to read.


	15. Acceptance

Aster paused to stare at the box in his hand again. It was a small thing really, but no less important he supposed. Really the very thought of making a gift had been a mistake. A torture to himself, but something he knew Jack would love. A birthday gift, the idea Jack had come up with so long ago. A silly thing, but at this point, anything that sparked any sort of positive reaction in Jack was a good thing. So long as it wasn't his endless anger. It seemed to still boil in him, hiding in the depths of those tortured baby blues.

He found Jack where he always found him. Though this time he was only sitting next to the grave. There were no unending tears, or pleas to the ground. Just a lone pooka, with brown and white fur, a tattered blue cowl, and a staff staring at the marker.

He opened his mouth to say something but Jack stopped him. “Hello Aster... why are you here?” There was no malice in the question. Just exhaustion, which was one of the many improvements in the last few weeks out of Jack. An improvement that brought him closer to them and farther away from the Jack he had fallen for.

“Well... I remembered something you told me. And... it seemed like a good idea.” He offered up stepping closer. There was no outburst and he took that as a sign that he was allowed to sit down. Kneeling down next to him he held the small box out to Jack. In silence he watched Jack inspect the object. It probably didn't look like much to him, a silver box with a single black circle on the top. The switch to turn it on artfully hidden on the side.

“What is it?” He asked, taking it from him. He admired the pale hands turning it over and over trying to figure it out without his help.

“It's temporary... until I finish the painting.” Slowly so he didn't alarm or upset him he reached over. Pressing a finger into the hidden switch turning it on. A flurry of lights erupted from the solid circle an image flickering into view.

He smiled watching the shock on Jack's face as he dropped the box, the image of his lover cut off into the grass. “It's a hologram. I put a okay battery into it, and if you leave it in the sun it will recharge. But it's just not the same as a painting. So you get the rest later.”

Jack tilted the unit upright smiling as the full image came into view. “I can show you how to use it if you want.” He offered reaching into the light in demonstration. Flicking his fingers the image zoomed in on the pooka's face, his frozen gaze staring back at Jack with a crooked smile. He had worked long and hard altering Jack's appearance to that of his lovers. But he didn't need to know who he had used as a base to make the hologram possible.

Silently, with no sign he even enjoyed the gift he reached a paw up to stroke the image before him. His white paw interrupting the feed of the light. The image disappeared where is his paw pressed on. Quickly he pulled back as though burned to restore the image. “Isn't he handsome?” Jack laughed covering his mouth.

Aster said nothing watching Jack's eyes fill with tears. “Now I'll never forget what he looks like. North said I would but I never will!” Aster nodded in silence. If only he had thought of such a thing when he had run an age ago. Maybe he would be able to remember what it felt like. To know what Jack was going through so he could help him with it.

Long ears pressed back against Jack's head as he curled in on himself. “Leave me alone please.” He gasped out trying to hold back the sobs. He nodded not understanding completely, but knowing he simply had to do what Jack asked of him. North said arguing with him wouldn't help.

Dusting off his knees of grass he began to walk away. Yet he had forgotten the most important part. Turning around he tried not to run back. Jack's form bend over his staff, trying to hide his head in his lap. His back was already shaking with the force of him trying to keep his crying silent. “You get the painting on your birthday Jack. I remember when it is.”

“Okay.” Came the strained reply.

He stared at the hologram. He hated that face, the one who had Jack's heart even now. That person who had dared suggest he even knew Jack half as much as Aster. A mortal lifetime couldn't match what he knew! He had known Jack forever compared to that bastard. And it was only in his knowledge that made him able to make this gift. He had forever to make it up to Jack. Even compared to his immortal friends, he had already waited forever for something to love again.

“I love you.” He blurted out as though the confession would insult the hologram. But the image stared ever on in that happy confident way he had set.

“So?” Jack spat back uncurling to look at him. There was the anger again. Crawling out of the depths of that good heart, trying to hurt him with a look. He was ageless and nearly dead inside, he had faced worse. Shrugging off the look he shook his head in mock defeat.

“I just wanted you to know that.”

Jack turned away again to look at the hologram. That was his cue to leave. He had said what he needed to, and in time he could strike again. He would be like the sea wearing down a rock. Time would prove him the victor and prove Jack's lover right. Jack would be his. He'd show that dead bastard there was no one better for Jack than he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well you made it to the end! Thank you for reading. And don't worry, it's not the real end just yet. After all I have a few loose ends to tie up ^_~! The next part will be out soon keep a look out.


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